Gabriel's Revenge (The Adventures of Gabriel Celtic Book 2) by J.T. Lewis

that it was unlimited refills brought a smile to my face. They would be sorry I ever walked into their place.
    Abby ordered a cup, as well as a Danish pastry, and I was again amazed at her ability to pack in the food. I handed the young girl at the counter a credit card and we then took a seat in the surprisingly comfortable little shop. Abby tore into the pastry like she hadn’t eaten in a month, unabashedly licking her fingers when she was done.
    “I love pastry,” she said with enthusiasm.
    “I noticed,” I replied with a smile. “You must keep pretty active to keep the weight off with your appetite.”
    “Oh, I have a few hobbies that keep me busy, I’m trying to finish my college part-time, and my job can be pretty exciting at times.”
    I was just about to question her on her job and hobbies when our revere was interrupted by yelling from the counter.
    “What do you mean you don’t have espresso?” an overweight red-faced man literally screamed at the little girl behind the counter.
    “The machine is broken sir,” we heard in a small voice as the girl timidly tried to defend herself.
    “There is another coffee shop by Gate 16 sir, I’m sure…”
    “That’s 20 Gates from here, I have a plane to catch you dumb fucking idiot. Did you even have to finish high school to get this job bitch?”
    This guy had gone overboard, and I did a quick scan out in the corridor to see if there was any security around. Seeing none, I started to rise to see what I could do to calm the situation.
    “Need a refill?” Abby asked, taking my cup without waiting for my response. My surprise at her sudden actions delayed my reaction, and I watched as she approached the register, holding the two cups of coffee in front of her.
    Sliding in next to the irate man, she calmly asked the girl for refills of her coffee.
    “I was here first you dumb chink,” the man loudly shouted, his face turning an even brighter shade of red.
    Abby shyly turned to face him, her coffee cups still out in front of her. Suddenly the man was falling backwards, his flailing hands grabbing her arm in the process, causing the two cups of still hot coffee to spill all over his shirt.
    An angry howl filled the airport as the penetrating heat soaked through the man’s shirt and spread over his chest. The loud screams of pain finally alerted an airport security officer, who came running to the shop to investigate.
    “What’s going on here?” a young man wearing a neatly pressed uniform asked Abby, she obviously the best looking person involved in the melee.
    “This man fell down and grabbed my arm on his way down, spilling my coffee on him in the process,” Abby explained demurely.
    “She did it on purpose!” the man screamed as he tried to roll himself back to an upright position. “She pushed me down, I demand you arrest her!” the man finished in a huff.
    “Sir, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Abby intoned, to my ears a hint of a fake southern accent coming through.
    “You spilled my coffee; I believe you should buy me another,” she continued adamantly, holding her own in the conflict.
    “Looks like it’s just an accident to me,” the young security guy said, sneaking a smile toward Abby. “I don’t see any real fault here.”
    “What about my shirt!” the red-faced man yelled, looking at the young man.
    “There is a place that sells shirts in the airport, down by gate 16. I suggest your best bet may be to head on down there and purchase one before your flight leaves,” young security guy said with a determined look.
    The fat man was livid, but speechless. Looking at Abby and then the girl at the counter with razors in his eyes, he finally picked up his carryon and stormed off in a huff.
    “Thank you kind sir,” Abby said to the young man, really laying on the accent now.
    The young man smiled back before touching the fingers to the bill of his hat in an offhand salute. Turning on his heels, he strutted off back into